Rich Boy Club
by ScyllaX
Summary: Lawyers battle in a game of wits in court. They have a key role in the justice system and change lives. They fight back against evil and lies. But they get paid pretty damn well to do it!


It's been really frustrating for all the Apollo fans out there ever since Apollo made that decision to stay in Khura'in. Tbh I don't know anyone who isn't a fan of Apollo because he's literally shipped with everyone. Even I must admit, I used to ship Emapollo before I played DD. Anyway, there is a bit of good that came of it. I speak everyone's favorite red-suited lawyer getting paid by his clients – and _not_ having it cut by Mr. Wright. I go by the belief that Apollo is rich now – he _did_ rebuild a legal system, and he _kind of_ discovered the existence of Queen Amara…

And it's not just that he'd get paid for that, he'd also be extremely famous, which sets up for some MAJOR Athena fangirling that maybe I'll write a one-shot about if I feel up to it…

Either way, Apollo's got a lot of money. And after Sdarkynecro, one of my major reviewers, said something about a rich boy club in his response… oh boy…

Forgive me for this.

* * *

Miles Edgeworth sat in his well-cushioned chair, cup of tea resting near his documents. He looked at the ceiling, bored to an amazing extent. Such is the life of law…

…but not for this particular prosecutor. He took one quick check around the room, then proceeded to move over to his safe that lied behind his jacket. He opened it and grabbed the remote inside. Closing the safe, he sat in his chair and pressed a button he knew all too well. The wall of his office opened up and a flatscreen TV was revealed, extending from the wall. Edgeworth produced a smile, ready to watch Season 3, Episode 24 of his favorite show for the 4th time. But as the intro finished playing and the screen faded into an aerial view of Neo Olde Tokyo…

…something was definitely wrong. "Damn it!" Edgeworth hissed. There was a major problem! This was Season 3, Episode 23! Episode 24 started with a good fighting scene! "I've already seen Episode 23 five times! This is simply unacceptable!" The angered man stabbed at the remote, skipping forward to the next episode. His tensed muscles relaxed – and he stared at the TV, the smile returning to his face.

However, as Boromir would say: One does not simply secretively watch the Steel Samurai. Especially not in your office.

 _*knock* *knock*_

 _The resounding noise shook up the office – a dreadful sound causing much an inconvenience for its unawares._

Thus Miles Edgeworth.

The TV slid away as quickly as it appeared. The chief prosecutor quickly slid over to his desk (he had bought a swivel chair for exactly this reason) and hunched over some papers. "Come in," he muttered, interrupted yet again.

The rock star prosecutor's head stuck through the doorway. "May I come in, Herr Edgeworth?" he requested, a charming smile on his face.

"Yes, but only briefly." Edgeworth commanded, keeping cool.

"I had some matters to discuss with you, but before _Ich mache,_ I have something to ask… did I hear the Steel Samurai playing from your office?"

Edgeworth, who had taken a sip of tea, almost spat it out. _Oh God, oh God, he's on to me! W-Wait, I got this!_

The nervous prosecutor did not express his emotions at all – in fact, he put a smirk on his face and grabbed his tea. He walked away from Klavier, facing the window, back to the rock star.

 _When in doubt, be a badass and take a sip of tea whilst looking out the window. Works every time._

"Do you seriously think that I, Miles Edgeworth, would watch a kids show? Me, the Chief Prosecutor?"

Klavier looked to the side, playing with his braid. "Ja," he replied, eyes set on a shelf. "You have a glass doll on the shelf, nein?"

Miles turned around, staring daggers at the rock star. "It was gifted to me by Wright."

This did not seem to satisfy the blonde prosecutor, who walked over to the doll and picked it up. Miles felt himself cringe, making a mental note to wipe off Klavier's fingerprints later. "Achtung, I find that difficult to believe. This price tag on the bottom says $179.99 and we both know Herr Wright doesn't have that much money, nein?"

Now Miles really felt like spitting out his tea. How would he dig out of this one? "I- "

But he was cut off by Klavier grabbing his remote off his desk and hitting some random buttons. The nerve of this man! The magenta-clad prosecutor slammed his hands angrily on his desk. "I am your bo- "

It seems the chief prosecutor was not meant to speak a full sentence while Klavier was conducting his investigation, as the wall opened revealing the TV that Miles was all too familiar with. Miles smirked. "Jealous, Mr. Ga-"

 _Send news to the Evil Magistrate as soon as possible. We must catch the Steel Samurai, fast!_

Two armored knights ran toward a dark gloomy castle on the TV screen.

Edgeworth's eyes went as wide as saucers.

Klavier smiled. "I have the same TV model in my penthouse."

"So…"

"Herr Edgeworth, I have a proposal to make, which is the real reason I came. See… I came to give you an _invitation_ ," chuckled Klavier, reaching into his jacket for something. He plucked out a white envelope sealed with a sticker of… money stacks.

Miles picked it up, inspecting it.

"Well, I hope you accept. Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Edgeworth!" Klavier gave a dazzling grin and moved to exit the office, clearly about to tell everyone he knew about his boss's obsession.

"Mr. Gavin!" saved Miles, despair in his eyes. The braided prosecutor turned and looked over his shoulder. "If I accept... will you keep my... err, preferences secret?"

This provoked a hearty laugh from Klavier. "Funny you should ask. Ja, Herr Edgeworth," he said, and with that, he walked out the door, creasing Miles' brow. _What's funny abou that?_ Miles frowned at the envelope. _Guess there's only one way to find out..._

* * *

"Heheh… ha… ugh. I've already seen all these."

Apollo stared at his 28" monitor, browsing dank memes but seeing all the old ones. The frustration of not having dank memes is said to be devastating – and Apollo was experiencing it. He'd gone to Reddit, to Youtube, and just googled them, but new dank memes were hard to find…

The famous lawyer's phone rang. He plucked it out of his pocket and looked at the number, recognizing it as Klavier Gavin's.

Apollo put the phone down on his desk and put his hand back on his mouse, but he suddenly felt a major pain in his head.

"AGH! W-What…?" Apollo looked around, seeing nothing, but part of him knew what was going on.

 _Pick up the phone, Justice._

"W-Why? I'm doing… other, important stuff now!"

 _Because the plot requires it to happen._

"I don't give a damn about the plot! Like I said, I'm doing important stuff!" yelled Apollo, and with that, he blocked out the voice in his head.

But as Apollo scrolled down in google images, he realized that all of the pictures were of Gavin's phone. _How is this even possible?_ He thought to himself, but really, he did know what was going on.

Or maybe not. Whatever the author felt like placing inside of him, whether it was knowledge or ignorance, would be placed inside of him. Apollo realized this fact and figured that he should probably pick up the phone or the author might write something much less enjoyable than browsing dank memes.

" _Herr FOREHEAD? WHERE ARE YOU?!"_

Apollo rolled his eyes. "I'm in my house, Klavier."

" _How come you never sent me a text, Herr Forehead? You hurt my feelings!"_

This was an easy one. "Because I'm actually sick and tired of the gay jokes."

" _If you come over to my house, Herr Forehead, I'll make sure you are tired."_

Apollo rolled his eyes again. He was giving them a real workout. "And therein lies my point." The lawyer reached to end the call, but Klavier had one final burst.

" _I kid, I kid, but check your mailbox!"_

Apollo's desperate search for the dankest of the memes was not turning out too well, and besides – he hadn't checked the mail yet today, so the lawyer decided to listen to Klavier's request and go outside to check the mail. And when he pulled the daily mail out and set it on the granite countertop in his kitchen...

The lawyer's eyes searched over the invitation again. And again.

 _What the hell is a "rich boy club"?_

* * *

Ok, seriously, I apologize. I dabbled in some author-is-all-powerful-and-has-control-over-the-characters nonsense, and I personally think it sucked. Also, no one writes 1000 words and makes a little note at the top AND the bottom.

I just really wanted to get back into this. I've been soooooo busy lately!


End file.
